Starless Eyes
by Chloe.Diamond.Dame
Summary: Sequel to "Old Sins Cast Long Shadows". Whilst feeling the pain of losing Edmund, Cleo is determined to find him again, but will the goal of helping a wronged prince get in the way? R&R, during Prince Caspian, Edmund/OC
1. Paper Dreams and Trains

**A/N: You asked for it, so here it is, the **_**Old Sins Cast Long Shadows**_** sequel, **_**Starless Eyes**_**. I promise to pace myself this time, okay guys?**

**BTW, slight time change. Cleo is now in Edmund's time (1940-45's) and not in 2010.**

**Read on...**

* * *

**Cleo's POV**

_Memories. Defined as things you can remember that happened to you. The dictionary never really mentions if that counts for dreams too. I'm certain that Narnia was a dream, but then again if I am certain, why do I find that my thoughts are not unquestionably correct? _

'_Cleo?'_

_An instant smile forms on my scarlet lips after my body does a full 90 degree spin and my pebble-black eyes gaze into the chestnut eyes of Edmund Pevensie, who squeezes me like a lost toy until I'm left gasping for air but it doesn't bother me much. You see, that's the thing about memories. I can't pinpoint in my mind whether his eyes were dark hazelnut or chestnut, however it must mean a lot because it's an irritating thought that is nagging at my brain. _

'_What happened to you?' he asks me as he releases my body from his arms._

'_I honestly don't know,' I answer him truthfully with a sniff. 'When I entered Narnia, I was startled by the fireworks in the sky, and when I went riding with Lucy and Peter I was suddenly back to the fireworks again. I never wanted to go back home again, you've got to believe me!'_

'_I do,' he replies, giving me a side-ways sympathetic look as my sad eyes shift slowly to the floor. 'I do.'_

_He leans in, slips his hand behind my neck and kisses me delicately as if he's afraid he'll shatter me to pieces. You'll expect me to be delighted by the first touch by Edmund I've had in a year but I'm not. I'm not angry, I'm sad, I'm not elated – I feel nothing. Because it's not real_.

* * *

It's never real.

My eyes flutter open like midnight moths and watch the shadows of the dawn creep across my wall from the outside of my bedroom window. My dream is drifting away from me like an attempt to hold water, and although I don't remember what happened, Edmund's face is still strong in my mind. I reach into my bedside drawer and pull out a slim notebook that is attached a threading cord with a pen tied to the end. Flipping it open for the millionth time this week, I scribble down the name: _Edmund_, and then wedge it back into the drawer and slam it shut. I've been crying and dreaming about Edmund so much that I've decided to keep tabs on myself. I've filled five pages so far.

'Cleo?' my mother calls loudly from downstairs. 'Cleo, Wendy is here! Time to go.'

My mum... she's been a bit worried about me since I was transported back here. Apparently I've been a bit more..."distant" than usual, so "since I didn't even like living in Bush Hill Park anyway" we're going to go live with Aunt Wendy in Finchley, mum's sister-in-law/best friend until we can find a house that's on sale. She thinks that a change of environment will help me get back on my feet again. Whatever that means.

I dress myself in black tights and a white dress with matching shoes, and I make my way downstairs where Mum's wrestling with two large suitcases containing mostly crimson lipstick and fancy dresses. There's no point in asking her to unload a little; she'll only snap at me and defend her glamorous luxuries to the end if she has to. I pluck one from her grasp and carry it to the car including the help of Aunt Wendy who immediately opens the boot.

'Are you okay, ol' girl?' she whispers, rubbing my back comfortingly.

'Fine.' I groan, putting the luggage in the car's compartment with my hair whipping 'round my head like a glass of red wine splashing out from its cup.

'It seems to me that the sparkle has left your eyes, my dear.' Wendy points out. 'Are you sure that everything is right in your world at the moment?'

'I said, "I'm fine."'

She isn't convinced but I don't care. She mutters a few words under her breath and then gets into the driver's seat with my mother beside her and my brother beside me as I slide in the back (which smells subtly of a fragrance of some sort, if I might add). Logan inherits his blond hair from our father and presents that by carrying about a picture of him wearing his army suit in his pocket all the time. He says that he has it "because Dad always said to him that he'll always be in his heart whenever he was away. That wasn't good enough for him though. He needed something he could touch, something he could feel." So he asked father for one of his army photographs, and he's kept it ever since. Logan and Dad... they're close, you know. However I don't think that he's too keen on me at the moment, seeing as the stare he's giving me could frighten away a tiger.

'What?' I ask innocently.

'You are so selfish, do you know that?' he retorts. 'We're _moving_ because of you. Moving! And to _Finchley _too.'

'What's wrong with Finchley?' Aunt Wendy enquires. You've got to be careful with answering questions from Aunt Wendy; she can be tricky and trip you up in your words.

'Nothing.' Logan grumbles.

'Good.'

There's a silence as Wendy pulls out of the drive and drives down the Angeles Avenue whilst whistling to the tune of _In the Mood_ by Glenn Miller. I love this song, although I won't dance along to it – partly because Logan is still giving me a dirty look – but also because these days, I just don't feel like it.

'Logan,' I say desperately. 'I didn't _want_ to move! This was all Mum's idea. I really, _really_ wanted to stay at home, believe me. I still need to check if I can go back to Narnia through Larsson Wood, so that I can find the lamppost again. Or maybe I just need to find Cair Paravel... what does it matter? I just want to find Ed—'

The words are lodged in my throat and my eyes stare off into the distance as Edmund's face comes to mind again.

'What the hell are you talking about, you twit?' Logan hisses. Mum turns round as her curls become a messy bunch of hair rather than a neat bob like before.

'Logan!' she barks. 'Don't be so rude to your sister. The move probably won't be that long anyway, so shut up.'

Mindboggling. Absolutely mindboggling how I just blabbered on and on about Narnia and Cair Paravel without a second thought. I'm beginning to confuse people. But I can't keep quiet forever; I refuse to be shut up like a telescope.

* * *

'Do you have your blazer, Cleo?' Mum fusses. I nod hurriedly and begin to run out the door to catch up with Logan who is fast-walking so quickly that I have trouble keeping up with the guy ('_I just want to get it over and done with,' he said this morning_).

'Don't do anything I wouldn't do!' she calls after us. We're going to be new students at St Finbar's and Hendon House (which are right across the road from each other) and we have to take a rattling train to get there.

The train station is literally metres away from Aunt Mary's house so within seconds we are emerging into the bustling underground with lights too dim and too dark to even be recognised as lights, as crowds of children push past us like a river current ever flowing with swift fish always going places and everlastingly pulling faces as busy parents pull them on trains to go to school. Logan has some old friends down here in Finchley, so he goes over to meets them with open arms. I take my seat on a bench against the wall and stare into space and daydream for a while as a train races by and squeaks to a halt but it's not journey.

'_Fight! Fight! Fight!_'

The current of children become a cluster who all group together around a battle of foolish boys who dare to attempt to punch and scuffle with each other in a railway. What nonsense. A sharp whistle pierces the bubble of noise and releases quietness and a scramble of running feet as the kids separate away from each other while a Home Guard comes plodding along to break it up. They're such idiots – why would you have a fight in the underground? No wonder we have accidents down here.

'_Ouch!_'

What was that? I glance to my left and I see a little girl with pigtails stand up at the same time as her siblings as the ground begins to shake from beneath me. I feel a slight pain pinch my skin on my back and I find that I too stand up. Tiles on the ceiling begin to crumble and billboards in the walls begin to tear away and disappear down the railways mouth. Fearfully, I stare back at the children who were standing near the bench. I peer closely at the second boy on the end who holding hands with his sister. He looks strangely familiar...

The noise becomes louder and I wonder why the other people haven't noticed that the station is beginning to vanish. But then I notice that they're beginning to vanish too. I still can't think where I've seen that boy before... wait a minute... is that...?

'_Edmund!_'

I trip as the room gives its last tremble but I'm somewhere different. I'm in a forest. I'm in _the _forest. I whirl round like a spinning top toy to see if Edmund made it here too.

'No,' I rasp. 'No, _no_, that's not fair!'

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**A/N: I hope you like the first chapter. Please review and tell me what you think.**


	2. Crumbling Rocks and Accidently Trapped

**A/N: First few chapters will **_**all**_** be in Cleo's POV.**

* * *

_Narnia_. A certain dust of happiness settles on your soul when you think about it. Simply wishing for that feeling won't grant me that emotion. I am so sure that I _just_ saw Edmund Pevensie. Oh dear, but did he see me? That's the question I should actually be asking myself. Did _any of them_ see me? Wide eyes and quivering sighs are the images that come to your imagination when one is panicking—and I won't lie—I'm fitting that description right down to the trembling hands and shaking lips.

I look around at the trees accusingly. Whatever happened to Edmund and Lucy and Peter and Susan? Are they in Narnia too? Am I just in another part of Narnia? Oh God, I feel so confused...

There's a sound like a crunch underfoot behind me. I've learnt from my experience last year in Narnia, that noises that come from behind one are never ever good to one's safety. Grains of curiosity sprinkle onto my mind, so I cautiously rotate my head round to see an equally curious badger peering up at me with its nose quietly sniffing the air. Maybe I'll be alright after all.

'Excuse me, but do you know where Cair Paravel is?'

'Cair Paravel? It's quite far up the coast my dear,' he answers softly. 'Are you sure you want to go there? It's quite dangerous with all those ruins and things.'

'Ruins?'

'Yes, of course. Do you want me to take you there? You look a little lost.'

'Um, sure.'

He takes my hand in his paw and scuttles down the path, almost wrenching off my arm at the speed he's going at. I could tell him to slow down, but then again, I'm in a bit of a hurry as well. Here comes a corner on the trail... oh God...

'_Ouch!_'

'Sorry, miss,' the badger apologises, abruptly stopping after the corner. 'Here we are.'

In my mind, Cair Paravel is almost glistening with beauty, overlooking the ocean and standing tall magnificently though not intimidating in any way. My daydream leads me into the courtyard, where fawns and centaurs and talking creatures walk about casually, as if the fact that they're magical and mythical but still real is normal to them. What I see now is only an old reflection of what that was. This crumbling stony replacement of Cair Paravel is almost pathetic, and you have to really look hard to figure out that this was once something great. Shell-shocked, I turn to face the beaver slowly.

'This—' I stammer quietly. '_This_ is Cair Paravel?'

'Uh-huh,' he replies brightly. 'It was really great back in the day. Well, I _say_ back in the day but we all know that it was 3,000 years ago.'

'_Three thousa_—_!_' I choke. Bloody hell... that can't _possibly _be right.

'Dearie me,' the badger fusses, patting my hand comfortingly. 'You look a little pale. Why don't you come back home with me, and I'll fix you a nice stew to make you feel better?'

'Err, thank you. Yes.'

* * *

It's almost as if I'm in a little tree-made house with all the essentials one could need in one small space. The smell is nothing like dry wood though; beautiful green herbs that have evidently been located by a serious cooker fill my nostrils, just as the hints of tomato and spiced lamb overflow the air incredibly. It's the sort of cooking scent that you could just drink in and then crave more because you want that delightfully delicious taste in your mouth.

Trufflehunter (the badger) stirs the ladle in the pot until satisfied with the "consistency" (_so he tells me_) and then empties most of it into a bowl. He beams at me as I slurp it gratefully from the spoon.

'Thanks.' I say to him appreciatively.

'Oh it's just a little something to help a stranger, no problem.'

The small front door opens to reveal a rather hairy dwarf with a look of immense displeasure and anger on his face. He strides over to Trufflehunter, pulls him away from the cooker and hisses in a very loud whisper: '_Who's she? Is she a Telmarine?_'

'_No, no, not at all_,' Trufflehunter whispers back. '_At least... I don't think she is. She doesn't have the accent_.'

'_This isn't a bloomin' guest house, Trufflehunter! We have to get rid of her._'

'_Why?_'

'_You _know _why!_ _She'll get in the way of our plans for the White Witch_.'

The White Witch? These... these are White Witch followers? The badger looks back at me hurriedly. Very suddenly, I feel that this small house is a lot more claustrophobic than I thought. I can't go now; they'll know that I know their plot. Trufflehunter turns back to the dwarf.

'Nikabrik, I have sat on you once and I can do it again.' Trufflehunter growls.

'Fine. She can stay for a while.' Nikabrik mumbles reluctantly. '_For now_.'

* * *

**A/N: Looks like Cleo is in a sticky situation with a badger and a dwarf. Will she make it?**

**Review and I'll let you find out. **


	3. I Am Narnian

**A/N: I am **_**so sorry**_** this took so long. I promise to be quicker next time. Enjoy...**

* * *

Nikabrik eyes me distrustfully and pulls on his boots with difficultly. I look down at my feet quietly. Trufflehunter offers to help him but Nikabrik grunts and mumbles and walks out the door like a sulking child. I glance back up to make sure he's gone, and then turn my attention to Trufflehunter. I feel sorry for the little badger; he's so sweet and kind however the unpleasant dwarf doesn't seem to notice him and continues to be a nuisance. I don't believe that Trufflehunter believes in the black magic of the Witch. He's too caring to be a villain.

'Trufflehunter,' I ask slowly. 'Do you know where the Telmarines' castle is?'

'Yes, but I don't go there.' Trufflehunter chuckles. He stops and turns to me. '_You're _not thinking of going..._are_ you, Cleo?'

'_Well_,' I explain. 'Throughout the whole time that I've known the Pevensies, I've discovered that where a bad thing is affecting Narnia, they are right up there to stop it. I don't have an _exact_ plan yet, but I thought that if I could just get a glimpse of what's going on, I can have a better way of finding them.'

The badger stares at me through pebble-black eyes and blinks. He must think I'm mad. 'Erm,' he says. 'Don't you think that the Kings and Queens should come to _us_? It'll be much safer.'

'I don't think it works like that, Truffle,' I shake my head.

Trufflehunter murmurs something worriedly. He shuffles past me and disappears into a cupboard. This is serious, especially if he's bustling about like an anxious mouse. He pops back up again holding what seem to be a small dagger and a spyglass.

'You'll need these,' he says, thrusting them into my hands. 'Now go. The castle is to the left of here and if you run, you may make it there by sundown.'

'This dagger...' I whisper. I caress it with my hand gently and then slip it into my pocket. 'It reminds me of poor ol' Lucy's. I have to fine them. Thank you, kind badger.'

I vanish out the door and run out into the wood.

* * *

Something feels peculiarly familiar about being in lost in a forest; seeing nothing but trees standing to attention as you wander through their grounds like a trespasser. There is something oddly lifeless about the place. When I was here before, they seemed to bloom right in front of your eyes and then whisper through the rustling of their leaves like they were telling nature's biggest secret. Now they seem so... still, almost dead...

A round of shouts and yelling draws my attention. A group of guards jog by outside a castle that is no match to the beauty the Cair Paravel was, and stop to watch me intently. I dart behind a bush. I peer above it a little. They've gone now, and my feet are quick to respond as I scamper forward to hole in the wall which will hopefully lead me to some answers. Trufflehunter's gifts clink and clank about in my school bag, which for some reason, I'm still carrying. My eyes glare into the small space interestedly. It looks like the servants quarters. This should be good – the servants always have something to say about anything.

'_Miraz has us running round like lunatics_,' one maid moans.

'_Caspian should be here, we all know that, so why won't he come?_' a younger girl says, pouring hot water into a nearby sink. Caspian? Who's he?

'_They tried to kill him in the night, Roberta,_' says an older, wiser cook by the stove. '_I would leave if that happened, wouldn't you? But you're right. This isn't good_.'

What on earth is going on? I shuffle backwards but something pointy touches my back. A booming voice asks me to rise slowly. Good God, I'm in trouble now.

'Sir,' says a quivering voice behind me. 'Look at her clothes. Do you think she's... she's...?'

'She's what, boy? Out with it!'

'Narnian?'

A deathly silence settles behind me. A thoughtful '_hmm_' is heard. The sharp point in my back begins to dig in more. A gruff voice finally says: 'Well, girl? Are you Narnian?'

I look up at the castle inquisitively. If they take me in as a prisoner, then surely I can learn more. The getting out part will be hard, but just thinking about Edmund's face when I finish bringing all the pieces of the puzzle together leaves me elated. I turn to the guards confidently with a sly smile on my face. I nod once and only once.

'_I. Am. Narnian._'

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**A/N: Again, sorry it's late. Please review; I'd love your opinions :) **


	4. Lord Doubtful

**A/N: Long time, no see again – sorry. Here's Chapter 4...**

* * *

Due to the fact that my sight is blinded by the sheer darkness of the room, I'm not sure if there are rats, bats, dead things or anyone else here, but I sure as hell don't want to find out. I haven't been here long enough to get used to that awful stench either... oh God; someone's coming down the stairs (or _is_ it the stairs? As I said, I can't see a thing down here)

'So,' an enthusiastic voice says. 'It's true. They _did_ capture another one of you miscreants. Where are you devils appearing from? Naturally, a barbarian like you will be put to death.'

He comes close to the bars and I reach out to grab him but the guard yells: '_Lord Sopespian!_' and backs away. In the light of the guard's candle, I see a demonic smile spreads like an infection on his face. My body shivers like an autumn leaf. This guy must be working for that Miraz bloke those people were worrying about. I hate him already.

'_What's going on?_' I hiss. '_What's so special about the Narnians?_'

'They're extinct, that's what.' Lord Sopespian mutters. 'Our true King, Miraz, promised us it was so.'

'Miraz, eh?' I murmur, trying to sound intimidating. 'He doesn't seem like he's doing a good job. I've only just being in the care of Narnians, been _helped _by Narnians, and if he promises you then I guess "that's alright then"?'

'Sarcasm,' he spits. '_Doesn't_ become you.'

'In fact,' I say, ignoring him. 'No one actually _likes_ Miraz. And if he's only ruling on fear, and not doing a very good job of _keeping_ that fear, then even people within the castle would begin to doubt him. Hey,' I ask slyly. 'You don't seem to sure yourself... do yo—?'

'_Silence_.'

I think I've rattled him enough. The fading footsteps that pound back up the stairs tell me that I've given him lots to think about. I dunno... maybe. All I know is is that I'm left here again, alone in the dark damp prison. Wait a minute – what was that?

* * *

**A/N: It's short, but I hope you liked it. And what was that at the end? Patience is a virtue... **


	5. A Trembling Lip

An old man appears out of nowhere and plunges into the mud in front of me, leaving him spluttering and struggling to get up from his fall. After I let out a surprised shriek from my mouth, I help him up and look him up and down with a quizzical eyebrow raised.

'Did you just get... thrown in here?' I ask him.

'Blasted Miraz,' he mutters, half to himself and half to me. 'I'm a Professor, for Aslan's sake, not some common dog that they can just rough about a bit and—hey—aren't you that Narnian they caught?'

'Erm, sort of.'

He gives a big sigh and leans against the bars. He coughs and wheezes as if his lungs are giving their final inhales of oxygen—but there's a smile on his face...is he _laughing?_ His beard is grey, frazzled looking and mid-length, so, he's either a very strange old man or he knows something I don't.

'You know,' he says. 'Caspian said he'd be back for me. Good lad, Caspian. Brave lad. He has his father's heart. So young though...'

'Who's Caspian? Why's he so important?'

The Professor sighs again. He's been through too much and is probably weary enough, but I've got to intervene somehow or I may not survive...and time is running thin as my paths to finding the Pevensies are decreasing. So now he tells me of the attempt on Caspian's life and on how is throne was stolen by an uncle so awful and so despicably sly. I don't think that I've been looking at the bigger picture here.

'So,' I whisper. 'Basically... the land of Narnia is in danger and only a wronged prince and four legendary monarchs can save us?'

'Yes, but I don't understand that last bit.'

'Ah,' I begin, putting an arm round his shoulders. 'Seeing as we're gonna be here a while, I may as well start from the beginning...'

* * *

_Three hours later..._

* * *

There's something strange going on outside. It's a quilt of black sky outside and it's as though someone plucked that black sky and placed it inside to darken our sight further. I hear screams, I hear orders being shouted about, and I hear the swish and clang of swords being drawn. I would ask the Professor what _he_ thought was happening, but he collapsed from exhaustion about a minute ago. I can see something flashing about outside though, which is possibly a signal or something. Maybe the Narnians are revolting. Maybe...

I gasp suddenly.

...maybe the Pevensies are with them! I can hear someone coming down the stairs again. The guard screams: ''ere, whaddaya think you're—?' and now he's tumbling down the stairs unconsciously like a limp rag doll simply cast aside. A torch is lit and I see my chance.

'Hey!' I yell. '_Hey!_ Can you get us out of here? _Hel-loo?_'

Someone handsome and surprisingly tall comes down and busts through the door. I get up to go. Then I remember the chains on my hands that link to the wall. I try pulling on it but... I'm struggling so I let go. My forehead crinkles like tissue paper as tears start to trickle down my cheeks. I let out a shriek but the person doesn't notice me; he only mutters something to the Professor, like he's urging him to come with him, but the old man shakes his head. The man gasps at something and promises to be back for the Professor later.

'_Oi! What about me?_'

But he's gone. Well fine then. If no one's going to come and rescue me, I'm getting out of this mess myself. Remembering the buckle on my shoe, I undo the clasp with my teeth and bend with all the flexibility in my body until I am able to pick the lock with the buckle. I'm not sure if this is going to work or not, but –

'_Gotcha_!' I smile victoriously, running out of the jail. I remember the Professor and look back sympathetically. 'What about you?'

'You're young,' he groans painfully. 'I'll slow you down. You have everything ahead of you and my past shows that all my goals have being achieved. My only regret would be if I let a sweet person like you down. Go. Caspian will be back for me... he said he would.'

My lip trembles slightly. Then I run off into the open air like a freed dove.

It looks like an attack had occurred after all. My eyes scan the landscape for some sort of an exit. The wind pushes against me leaving goosebumps on my arms. I touch my face, realising that the tears are still flowing like crazy. Why am I crying? I'm not scared, I'm not hurt... or maybe I am and I just want to ignore it. I'm a lost lamb out here, and my plan didn't pass beyond the mark of just getting out. I sprint across the battlements to the next tower where I saw the flashing light being produced. I look around frantically. _OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod_, I think anxiously. I'm alone, I'm _terrified_, and I'm—'

'Cleo?'

I turn around and give a shocked sound of astonishment.

'_Edmund?_'

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**A/N: It's about time too, aye? Please review – I'll do my next chapter quicker if you do :)**


	6. The Sick Note

**A/N: England is a horrible place to live... if you're thinking about the **_**weather**_** that is! The predictable coldness of the British climate has brought my mother cold. Which she passed onto me. And my Dad. And most possibly my sister..., but anyway, I'll temporarily be unable to continue **_**Starless Eyes**_** for a while. **_**TheLostHeroinesOfOlympus**_** already knows this, and seeing as I think they are **_**absolutely brilliant**_**, I recommend their story **_**Private Pevensie**_** in the mean time if you don't already know it. **

**Thank You. **


	7. Old Friends

A billion beautiful butterflies are caged in my body and I feel them fly and flutter about as Edmund puts his arms around me and presses his body against mine. Fast rhythmic heartbeats are felt between us as I return the hug like a long lost friend. We pull apart though still in shock. Everything else has vanished away and it's just me and him in the moonlight.

_Bang_

The door opens and bangs shut behind the group of guards that surround us. My hand clasps around Edmund's hand as I pull him towards the door to downstairs. Another guard blocks my way. I gulp and look around hurriedly. Edmund squeezes my hand. This is no time for my heart to melt but it does nevertheless. I remember the dagger that Trufflehunter gave me. Edmund turns to me as I begin to reach for my blade slowly. He shakes his head, as if to say it's too late.

He backs away to the battlements, still holding my hand. He takes a step too far back and falls, but his hand is still in mine and pulls me down with him.

'_Edmund!_' I scream, but my screams are overpowered by other shrieks all around me and...now we're flying...not falling at all. We're riding on the back of a hippogriff, just like before.

'_Ssh, shh,_' he hushes me softly. His breath is warm against my ear as he holds me whilst clinging to the saddle of the hippogriff too. Edmund looks down solemnly. I look down with him.

A crimson picture including Narnians and Telmarines alike lie below. Some still try to pound against the door to break free but it's useless. Hot saltwater begins to come up again but I push them back more easily now that Edmund's here. All those people... dead. I can see Peter galloping away. _How could he just leave them like that? Is he absolutely stupid? _

'Edmund, what—?'

'I don't know,' he says. And we float away in the night as the signs of dawn begin to show.

* * *

I've thought about this moment for some time. The sun would be a blinding beam that exposed every detail of nature like a wide spotlight, and with Edmund by my side, I'll begin to see Susan running up to me with blue eyes wide with wonder, and Lucy – young and dusted with tiny freckles on her cheeks – would hug me tightly. I'm not sure what I thought Peter would do; we've never been close. But this is _so_ different. We trudge on damp, green grass that has that '_just rained_' smell and many are miserable for those they have lost. Edmund and I have stayed behind Susan and Peter, for as Edmund sees it, it's not time to break the silent spell yet. Apparently, Peter and Caspian have, erm, "issues". However I still try and move to the front.

'_Ow!_' says someone in front of me.

'Sorry,' I apologise quickly. He's a rather old man, but there's something quite familiar about him. 'Professor?' I hiss.

'Ah, Cleo,' he smiles.

'You got out!' I grin happily.

'_What happened?_'

That's Lucy's voice! She looks so much taller now and her hair is so long. She has a serious look on her face, as if she's expecting the worst. I glance at Peter. She looks a lot like him now.

'Ask _him_,' Peter grumbles.

'Me? What about you?' Caspian snaps back. '_You_ could have called it off, there was still time.'

'No there _wasn't _time, thanks to _you_.'

Like the 4th of July or the 5th of November, fireworks and sparks will fly between these two. I have a bad feeling about this...

* * *

They've led me into this small hideaway cave that seems to have been concealed beneath a large hill that holds every centaur, fawn, animal and human here. It's _warm_ here. I've been scouring this old land to find what I'd lost a long time ago but now that I'm here I don't think that the people are the same. Peter is losing all control and he's becoming this frantic mess that refuses to talk to anyone, the animals seem defensive, and Susan doesn't seem like she's even pleased to be here. Edmund and Lucy have changed too, but for the better. They have more... courage.

Lucy glances at me as I draw out the dagger. I've been meaning to give it to her.

'Hey Lu,' I call to her. 'Look what I've got.'

'Is that...is that...?'

'_Yours?_' I smile. 'I think so.'

'What? Really? Oh wow, let me see. Gosh...it has the carvings and everything. Where did you find it?'

'While I was at Trufflehunter and Nikabrik's house (_if that's what you can call it, I think silently in my mind_) I, um, found it and thought "Hey, that's Lucy's." Where _is _Nikabrik anyway?'

'Um,' she says, still mesmerised by the dagger. 'He went down that tunnel thing.'

I look over to where her wandering hand points and follow it like the curious _Alice_ I am. These walls are so old, I can feel their stories carved deep into the stone as my fingers touch the surface as I walk down the corridor. Cair Paravel was dead, it was a great thing gone. But this place has life breathed into it, from the determination of a Narnian army that _will_ succeed. Someday, soon. Hopefully, soon. I turn the corner but I can't see much. It looks like a tall window of sorts but it looks too scratched like... ice...there's an outline of someone on the ice too...can it be?

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**A/N: Sorry it's been long, but I hope you enjoyed it (even if it is short) and please review :)**


	8. The Pieces of Things I Knew

It's her. I know it's her. I sprint of down the back the corridor, scrambling and stumbling back to the torch lit room where it's full of warm people, not pure ice like _her_. I scan the room for Edmund's face. I feel a touch behind me and instantly scream out of fright. It's Lucy, little Lucy that has grown so much and is much tougher than she looks. She eyes me carefully.

'Are you alright Cleo?'

'Me? Yes. No. _No!_' I suddenly realise. 'No, we have to warn Peter and Edmund and Susan! Don't you see? It's her! _Her!_'

'Who?' she replies in a small voice.

'The Witch!' I shriek. 'And I think Caspian's in trouble too.'

Her eyes widen slightly. We both call out to her siblings and a few others and we all thunder down a different corridor that leads to the other side of the Witch's room. Caspian has his hand outstretched. The Witch is beginning to emerge from her frozen prison and into reality. They have given me a sword for self defence, and I'm starting to think that I'm going to need it. With my heart thumping in my ears, I leap forward with cries of distress behind me but I know what I'm doing. I'm going to kill her once and for all. Her followers ruined the one thing that was beautiful to me; I won't let it happen a—

'_Ow!_'

What happened? I've been knocked to the ground like a bird shot out of the sky with a bullet, and I find myself searching the ground for my sword. I hear Edmund call out my name as a vulture-like creature screeches and titters over me. _Sword, sword,_ I think to myself. _Find the blade that'll save your life_...

_There!_ I gasp to myself. I snatch it up from behind a rock and plunge it into the monster's chest without a second thought. I've never killed anyone before. My father...he's probably killed loads since joining the army, but I never... It's a strange feeling. I don't like it.

'Cleo,' Edmund takes my hand and pushes the lifeless beast aside and hauls me from the ground. 'Are you okay?'

I nod hurriedly and scream as I see a bear sized figure tower over him from behind. He swivels round and ducks out the way, just in time to bend behind him and thrust his own weapon into his back. He runs towards the icy Witch as if it's something not to be regarded as. I step back in horror. The look is familiar on him, and in some strange way, it reminds me of Dad. Whenever he'd come home and Logan would ask about 'war stories', he'd say how hard it was to kill people at first. But he'd say it so casually. I need to remember this is just self defence. But it still feels wrong.

Spinning on my heels, I see Lucy getting held at knife point by Nikabrik.

'_Lucy!_' I shriek. A small, blonde and raggedy dwarf hears me and sees Lucy and digs a dagger into Nikabrik's back. Lucy smiles and thanks him. She has that_ same look!_ How used to death must these people be?

Peter looks enchanted also. Caspian appears confused and shocked whilst lying in a collapsed position on the floor. Why can't they all just resist the spell? _I_ did! There's a large shatter like the breaking of glass that bring the wall of ice to pieces on the dusty floor. Edmund stands in the doorway like the saviour that he is. He looks at Peter and Caspian glumly.

'I know,' he mutters. 'You had it "_sorted_".'

It should've been Peter. He's older now, why isn't he taking on the big responsibilities (like keeping your family alive?) and why the hell does he look so damn confused all the time? Lucy seems to have grown up too fast and Susan seems so disheartened all the time... it is all so wrong. It's not the Pevensies I know. I sprint back through the corridor and drop the sword somewhere behind the rocks while centaurs and fawns look up in curiosity as I sprint out our hideaway in the cliff face and out into the open air. A cold, breezy, blusterous wind shoots up my legs and around my light white dress. Breathe in. Breathe out. It's a simple pattern so why do my lungs right now feel unable to follow it?

'Cleo!'

Edmund comes up behind me and turns me towards him so that I'm facing him right in the eyes.

'What is it?' he asks quietly.

'Do you know how long I spent thinking about when I'd see the Pevensies again?' I ask him rhetorically. 'It seemed like infinity. Then suddenly I end up here again and I don't see the Pevensies, I see a family where the oldest brother is a confused wreck who's making wrong decisions left and right, the oldest sister doesn't even want to be here in Narnia, and you and Lucy seem to have grown so fast and I suppose I'm only upset about that because I wasn't there to see it.'

Edmund cocks his head at me sympathetically.

'This Narnia is not the Narnia I know. I mean,' I continue. 'Narnians supporting the White Witch? I just—I can't—'

'_Shh, shh,_' he hushes me, hugging me tightly. I can feel his hesitant lips on my cheek as he tries to reassure me, but I still feel anxious thoughts chasing each other round my brain. Things are not as they should be.

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**A/N: It's been a long time, folks, but it's finally here. I hope you liked it and please review :) Sorry it's so short**


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